


Silk, Cotton, Kevlar

by quiet__tiger



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Joker loves Batman, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Joker figures out a way to answer the eternal question with respect to Batman: boxers or briefs?





	Silk, Cotton, Kevlar

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "What the protagonist wants," for the scenario "Joker wants to know if Batman wears boxers or briefs."
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal May. 11th, 2009.

“There’s got to be a way to get into Batman’s pants.”

“What, Puddin’?”

Harley didn’t seem to have actually heard him; otherwise she’d probably be more concerned. Joker didn’t care either way, as Harley didn’t really understand half of what he said most of the time anyway.

“Batman. What does he wear underneath that costume? Boxers, briefs, nothing?” Joker slouched over on the couch and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. He chewed on one fingernail as he pondered.

Harley finally looked up from whatever it was she was doing. Something with paper and scissors. Maybe later she’d let him cut off her hair. Maybe he’d do it anyway. “I dunno, Puddin’.” She scrunched up her face in thought. Or gas. “Can’t be too loose, though, to fit into his tights.”

“Mmm.” He spit out one nail and started on another. He tried to picture Batman in just the top of his costume so he could see underneath. He flipped through a dozen or more styles and finally felt himself settle on pink panties cut high on the hip.

He spit out the nail and shook his head. That couldn’t be right. Batman probably also didn’t wear cowboy boots and carry a polka dot umbrella and wear an orange hardhat, either, but that was what his mind settled on. He stood and paced, avoiding getting too close to Harley lest she drag him into her scissors endeavor.

His efforts were for naught as she waved a piece of paper in his face. “Whadya think?”

He kind of wanted to crumple it up and shove it down her throat. “Of what?”

“Of this page of the scrapbook. Last Saturday, when it rained and we watched the movie? It was so fun!” She smiled at him, reminding him of how pretty she really was when he was in the right mood.

He scowled. “Instead of that, you could be helping me think of a way to get into Batman’s pants. Short of seducing him with vittles and a bottle of wine.” He probably wouldn’t be able to help himself from poisoning it, and he didn’t want Batman _dead_. Of course not.

“You could follow him to his house.”

“I think he’d notice. This isn’t a movie.” Movies didn’t have guys dressed as bats.

Pacing away, Joker surveyed his worktable. Blueprints, wire, eight different knives, cake, balloons, acid. He looked over the table again, then came back to the balloons and acid. Hmm. “Harley… up for a night out on the town?”

She squealed, and he planned.

~*~

The chemical plant was embarrassingly easy to break into. Especially if the one doing the breaking in had a gun and the guards were lazy. From there stealing supplies was a piece of cake even more delicious than the ones sitting back in the hideout.

Even the best plans didn’t always go smoothly, which is why Joker wasn’t upset when Batman interrupted his party early. Since the party was for him, anyway, it was only advantageous.

The growl came from behind him, near the door. “Drop it, Joker.”

“Batsy! I didn’t get your RSVP, but it’s good to see you anyway!”

Joker tossed the beaker of acid softly in Batman’s direction, and it shattered on the floor, sending the toxic substance inside hissing towards the costumed freak’s boots. The puddle didn’t reach them, and Batman didn’t look down at it anyway.

Standing tall, Joker strutted; he loved the way Batman watched him, radiating loathing and sensuality. “It’s rude, you know, to crash a party. But since this one’s for you, I can’t mind, can I?” He picked up another beaker. A batarang crashed through it and he jerked his hand back so he wouldn’t get burned. “I’m already ravaged by this stuff, Batsy! No need to make it worse.” He batted his eyelashes. “Beauty sleep can only do so much, you know.”

“Give it up, Joker.” There was already another batarang in his hand, raised to be thrown.

“It’s just a chemistry project, Batsy.” Joker pulled a pair of horn-rimmed glasses out of his pocket and put them on. “Always more work to do for the university.” He sighed heavily. “It’s always work, work, work. Until I get tenure, anyway.” He giggled and Batman’s hand twitched like he was clenching his fist.

That was when Harley cartwheeled into the room from behind Batman; she’d been grabbing more beakers from another lab. Batman barely had to move to avoid her, but it was enough to distract him so Joker could throw another beaker at him. It caught a swirl of Batman’s cape and the acid sizzled as it ate away at the fibers. Joker crowed and Batman jerked his head back to him and glared.

Giving Harley a shove to the floor, Batman whirled to face Joker, arm raised to throw the batarang still in his hand. Harley kicked him in the back of the knee, causing the throw to go wide. Joker’s next toss hit Batman square in the hip, acid eating through the material of his costume.

Soon… _soon_ his question would be answered. One more beaker, and there wouldn’t be enough material to cover Batman’s underthings. If he wore any. So many possibilities, so many things the great Batman could wear underneath the undies he wore on the outside. Joker grabbed another beaker from the counter behind him and turned to throw it. One more splash—

Something hit him from behind, knocking him face first into the floor, making his glasses fly off and making him drop the beaker. He turned his face to avoid having it splash into his eyes and was in time to see Batman straddling Harley as he tied her hands. _Lucky bitch_.

A weight settled on his back to tie his hands. He tried to flip over and get it off him, but what felt like a knee was jammed between his shoulder blades. “Stay down, Joker.” The bird boy. Cardinal. Titmouse. Robin. Whatever. Joker had forgotten he might be there. Usually he was hard to miss.

“Robin, you decided to join us. The party’s almost over, though. And I don’t have a goodie bag for you.”

“Shut up, Joker.” His arms were jerked behind him so Robin could tie them together.

“You’re so forceful. You learn that from Batsy? I hope he’s not too hard on you.”

“Shut _up_.” Robin pushed his head into the floor has he climbed off him. He walked over to Batman, who was scrubbing something against his hip and groin. The tights-leg on that side was hanging by dwindling threads from the back, and the revealed flesh was pink from the acid burn.

“ _Acid_. He threw _acid_ at me.”

“At your _crotch_?”

The scowl was evident in Batman’s growl, and sounded so melodic to Joker. “Apparently. Damn crazy clown…” The Bat and Bird spoke in low tones after that and Joker couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Soon after he heard police sirens, and sighed. Back to Arkham, no doubt. No hideout, no table of tricks, no hyenas, no Harley. And definitely no cake. But… maybe… Maybe he could have just one thing. “Batsy!” He was ignored as Batman unclipped his cape and shredded it to tie a piece around his bare leg. Apparently Batman didn’t want to show a little skin. Then again, if his were that pale, Joker wouldn’t either. “Batsy!”

Batman conferred with Robin about something _more_ , then glanced back to Harley, who was glowering daggers at both of them. Not literal daggers, unfortunately. That would be quite a useful ability. “Boxers or briefs?”

The cowled head snapped in his direction, lens-covered eyes narrowing at him. “Excuse me?”

“Boxers or briefs? I have to know!” He tried to look eager for knowledge, and hoped the expression didn’t come off as deranged.

Batman _recoiled_. “You burn me, destroy a—Just to—Never mind. It’s _you_. There’s never a rhyme or a reason.”

Joker was affronted. “You wound me, Batsy! I just asked you! I always have a reason!” He paused. “In any season! That rhymes!”

He thought Batman might have muttered, “I want to, believe me,” but he couldn’t be sure because the police finally showed up and Batman and Robin disappeared.

All that work and he _still_ didn’t know what Batman wore underneath! All he could be sure of was that it probably wasn’t pink. Probably. But it’d be funny. He laughed as the hulking police officers dragged him to his feet, and didn’t stop until they shoved him into the car.

Even then, he tittered. _Purple_. It’d make him and Batman _match_.


End file.
